


Tales of Remnant

by sentinel28II



Category: RWBY
Genre: Bad Puns, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Cinder is sick of this crap, Comedy, F/F, F/M, Parody, Pyrrha keeps getting shot, Salem is drunk, Too much time on my hands, Won't someone just hug Salem, not sorry, stupid comedy, worse puns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22081228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentinel28II/pseuds/sentinel28II
Summary: This story is where fairytales come true, where heroes will rise to fight the creeping darkness.  Where magic and science collide.  Where the fate of a world rests on the shoulders of four young women, a world of high adventure, tragedy, and sacrifice.Just kidding!  This story is about Pyrrha getting a railgun, Ruby turning into a force of nature, Yang and Weiss watching football, Blake getting horny, and Salem getting drunk.  And whatever else should come to me at 3 AM.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Cinder Fall/Pyrrha Nikos, Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos, Kali Belladonna/Sun Wukong, Salem/Emerald Sustrai
Comments: 16
Kudos: 47





	1. Pyrrha's Last Gambit

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you just have to let your metaphorical hair down. I'm writing this (fairly) serious air combat story with "On RWBY Wings," and just finished this beautifully written romance story (smut) with "One Night in Atlas," so now it's time to write something silly. I originally posted this over at FF.net, but might as well migrate this one over here too.
> 
> Enjoy! I'll post new chapters either daily or when I feel like it. So there. Don't worry--still plugging away at "On RWBY Wings," and I haven't forgotten "Love Hurts" either.

_And here I am,_ Pyrrha Nikos thought to herself. _At the end._

Around her, the clock tower of Beacon Academy was in ruins. Pieces of the giant timepiece were scattered about the wrecked remains. The CCT transmitter was completely destroyed; whoever was left alive at Beacon was in full retreat from the White Fang and the Grimm. Her lower leg and foot screamed in pain, and Pyrrha gritted her teeth, trying not to cry out. She would die here, but she would not scream. The Invincible Girl of Mistral did not scream. The Invincible Girl of Mistral did not cry.

The devastation was complete, but it could not match the devastation in her heart.

Before her stood Cinder Fall. Cinder was bruised and battered herself, her dress torn, her hair in disarray. She had limped over to Pyrrha. Inwardly, Pyrrha smiled a little. She never really had a chance against the Fall Maiden’s powers, but Pyrrha could at least die knowing she had given the other woman a run for her money. 

Cinder herself even seemed to acknowledge her foe’s doomed bravery. She knelt in front of Pyrrha, gently crading her chin. “It’s unfortunate that you were promised a power that was never truly yours,” Cinder said to Pyrrha, a trace of sadness in her voice. “But take comfort in knowing that I will use it in ways you never could have imagined.” She stood and took a step back. In her hands formed a bow made of obsidian. Pyrrha watched as the arrow that would take her life formed in the bow’s string.

Pyrrha drew herself up to her knees, despite the incredible pain in her heel. She would prefer to die on her feet, but so be it. “Do you believe in destiny?” She held the Fall Maiden’s gaze steadily, without fear.

Cinder looked confused for a moment. “Yes.” She drew back the bowstring.

“That dress makes you look fat.”

The bowstring reached its full extension. It quivered. Cinder’s expression of triumph went to one of utter shock. Her lower lip began to quiver as much as the bowstring, which went slack. Tears filled her fiery eyes. “I can’t believe you would say that!” Cinder cried. She fell to her knees, the bow clattering to the burned floor.

The Grimm Wyvern flew over and landed on the ruined parapet. “Did she just call you fat?”

Pyrrha was shaking her head back and forth quickly, but Cinder nodded through her tears. “She’s so mean!” Cinder exclaimed. 

“Dude!” the Wyvern said to Pyrrha. “Fat shaming. Don’t you know what year it is?”

“I can’t believe you said that!” Pyrrha whirled to see Ruby standing on the parapet, opposite the Grimm Wyvern. “Pyrrha! You’re such a nice person! Why would you say that to someone?”

Pyrrha spread her hands in confusion. “But she was about to kill me!”

“That’s no excuse!” Ruby shouted. “That’s not cool, Pyrrha! Not cool.”

The Wyvern shook his head sadly. Cinder had buried her face in her hands, weeping and sobbing as if Pyrrha had just shot her puppy. 

“I’m…sorry?” Pyrrha said.  
  



	2. Pyrrha's Last Gambit 2: Semblance Boogaloo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha faces her end (again), but she's not going out without a fight. Alone, wounded, exhausted, the Invincible Girl of Mistral doesn't go down that easily.
> 
> No pun intended.

_And here I am,_ Pyrrha Nikos thought to herself. _At the end._

Around her, the clock tower of Beacon Academy was in ruins. Pieces of the giant timepiece were scattered about the wrecked remains. The CCT transmitter was completely destroyed; whoever was left alive at Beacon was in full retreat from the White Fang and the Grimm. Her lower leg and foot screamed in pain, and Pyrrha gritted her teeth, trying not to cry out. She would die here, but she would not scream. The Invincible Girl of Mistral did not scream. The Invincible Girl of Mistral did not cry.

The devastation was complete, but it could not match the devastation in her heart.

Before her stood Cinder Fall. Cinder was bruised and battered herself, her dress torn, her hair in disarray. She had limped over to Pyrrha. Inwardly, Pyrrha smiled a little. She never really had a chance against the Fall Maiden’s powers, but Pyrrha could at least die knowing she had given the other woman a run for her money. 

Cinder herself even seemed to acknowledge her foe’s doomed bravery. She knelt in front of Pyrrha, gently crading her chin. “It’s unfortunate that you were promised a power that was never truly yours,” Cinder said to Pyrrha, a trace of sadness in her voice. “But take comfort in knowing that I will use it in ways you never could have imagined.” She stood and took a step back. In her hands formed a bow made of obsidian. Pyrrha watched as the arrow that would take her life formed in the bow’s string.

This is totally not cut and pasted from the last one. Shut up. 

Pyrrha drew herself up to her knees, despite the incredible pain in her heel. She would prefer to die on her feet, but so be it. “Do you believe in destiny?” She held the Fall Maiden’s gaze steadily, without fear.

Cinder looked confused for a moment. “Yes.” 

As the bowstring was pulled taut, Pyrrha knew she had one last card. One last chance. She put weight on her ankle, ignoring the excruciating pain that shot up her leg, and in the fastest, best, and last move of her life, leapt straight at Cinder. The Fall Maiden was not anticipating the attack. The bow shifted slightly to the right, but it was too late: Pyrrha had already crossed the space between them. She had no weapons, only her bare hands. 

She seized Cinder by the hair, twisting her fingers in the other girl’s raven locks. With a speed borne of desperation, Pyrrha unleashed her final move, the only weapon left in her arsenal, the only chance anyone had left against the power of pure evil.

Pyrrha crushed her lips against Cinder’s. 

She put such a liplock against Cinder Fall’s mouth that the Fall Maiden’s toes curled and her hair stood on end. It was with such passion that, a mile away, Jaune threw down his Scroll and screamed to the heavens that life wasn’t fair. There was so much raw sexual power in the kiss that this story seriously should get an Explicit tag. Pyrrha put all her love and love byproducts into the smooch, all the years of frustration as being the Untouchable Symbol of Mistral, all the seasons of falling in love with a blind fool who seriously _could not see what was right in front of him._

Against that power of pent-up lust, Cinder had no defenses. She was already tired, exhausted, and frankly, she’d been a bit frustrated herself. Being an unbelievably powerful woman in the service of an omnicidal (if oddly hot) maniac made for a lonely existence. 

The bow clattered to the burned floor. Cinder put her hands gently into Pyrrha’s red locks as they continued to kiss. Pyrrha pressed her advantage, and Cinder was forced backwards. She did not mind. She was lost in Pyrrha’s lips. Love is a battlefield, and Cinder Fall was in full retreat. Their hands ran over each other, and soon, dresses and armor fell to the ruined floor as their tongues met and seriously, if I write any more this _will_ get the Explicit tag.

“Whoa mama!” Ruby had arrived at last. Her silver eyes widened and then she hurriedly looked away. “I’m too young to see this!”

“I’m not!” said the Grimm Wyvern, who landed on the ruined parapet and raised his Scroll. “YouTube here I come!”  
  
  



	3. Reap the Whirlwind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Ruby gets too much caffeine? 
> 
> And what happens when an over-caffeinated Nora is the only one who can stop her?

Yang Xiao Long sat contentedly on her bed, flipping through _Ninjas of Love II: Smut and Nothing But._ “I don’t know why Blake likes this crap,” she mused to herself. “I mean, you write this steamy love scene, and you refer to it as a katana? Just call it a dic—“

The door suddenly slammed open. Yang screamed and threw the book into the ceiling—not against it, but embedded it in the tiles. Blake stood there, yellow eyes wide, breathing hard with exertion, bow unraveled in her hair to expose one feline ear. She looked like she had just waded through a horde of Beowolves to fight a circle saw. “It’s not what you think!” Yang yelled in panic. “I totally think katana is a good euphemism! Don’t kill me, Blake—“

“Never mind that!” Blake shouted. “It’s Ruby, Yang! We’re in big trouble!”

Yang jumped down from her bed. “What? Where? What kind of trouble? Food fight trouble or season finale trouble?”

“The latter!” Blake grabbed her friend’s hand and dragged her down the hall. “It’s horrible!”

Yang turned pale. Her greatest fear—more than losing a limb, more than losing Blake or Weiss (but mainly Blake)—was that something would happen to her sister. “Oh, no. What’s happened?”

“Better that I show you.” They raced out the front door of the dorm into the school’s courtyard. Yang saw the devastation. Beacon Academy’s walls were half-ruined, the fountain was wrecked. The clock tower looked intact, but on a second glance Yang could see that even it was damaged, leaning to one side. Around her, students fled in abject terror. 

Yang looked up as a wave of winds nearly blew her off her feet. Looming over the Academy’s grounds was a tornado, one the color of blood. Silver lightning shot through the cyclone. Rose petals fell as steady rain. 

“That’s…Ruby…” Yang breathed in disbelief.

“Yes,” Blake said sadly. “That is what she’s become.”

“What happened?”

“She fell asleep in Oobleck’s class. He was tired of her falling asleep in his class, so he forced coffee down her throat. _His_ coffee. And then that happened…” Blake brushed away a tear. It flew away in the winds. “I don’t think Weiss made it out in time.”

“ _Bwhahahahaha!”_ Ruby’s voice thundered across the Academy, to be heard even in Vale. _“I am raw POWER! Unbridled POWER! Gaze upon my works, ye mighty…and DESPAIR!”_

Yang steeled herself and cocked both of her gauntlets. Ember Celica’s shells slid into place with a click audible even over Ruby’s insane laughter. “We’re in for the fight of our lives. We’ve got to take down my sister before she destroys the entire Academy—no, the entire world.”

Blake readied Gambol Shroud. Her fingers touched Yang’s in reassurance. “We’ll do what we can, Yang. We’ll save Ruby.”

Yang nodded. “I know.” She sniffed back a sob. “Even if it comes to killing Rubes to save the world. It’s our only hope!”

“ _No!”_ shouted Nora Valkyrie. She advanced towards the red whirlwind, unafraid, bracing her legs and hammer against the unrelenting tempest. _“There is another!”_ And with that, Nora uncorked her own coffee thermos, filled with eight espresso shots and raw chocolate syrup. She chugged the mixture down as lightning lit the heavens and exploded across Beacon. 

Blake closed her eyes. “We are all dead.”


	4. Pyrrha's Last Gambit 3: The Fourth Wall Asunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha faces certain death at the hands of Cinder Fall. Again. Like, for the third time. 
> 
> Are Pyrrha and Cinder locked in an eternal circle of fighting and death? Is there no escape from the karmic wheel? Or is the writer just too damn lazy to come up with a better plot idea?

_And here I am,_ Pyrrha Nikos thought to herself. _At the end._

Around her, the clock tower of Beacon Academy was in ruins. Pieces of the giant timepiece were scattered about the wrecked remains. The CCT transmitter was completely destroyed; whoever was left alive at Beacon was in full retreat from the White Fang and the Grimm. Her lower leg and foot screamed in pain, and Pyrrha gritted her teeth, trying not to cry out. She would die here, but she would not scream. The Invincible Girl of Mistral did not scream. The Invincible Girl of Mistral did not cry.

The devastation was complete, but it could not match the devastation in her heart.

Before her stood Cinder Fall. Cinder was bruised and battered herself, her dress torn, her hair in disarray. She had limped over to Pyrrha. Inwardly, Pyrrha smiled a little. She never really had a chance against the Fall Maiden’s powers, but Pyrrha could at least die knowing she had given the other woman a run for her money. 

“Really?” Pyrrha said, painfully facing the author. “You just recycle what you wrote in the first one? That’s the third time you’ve pulled that.”

“Talk about lazy,” Cinder remarked. 

Fine, whatever. Pyrrha had tried so hard, and got so far, but in the end, it did not even matter.

Cinder rolled her eyes and leaned up against the ruins of Ozpin’s desk. “Look. If you’re not going to take writing fanfiction seriously, I’m not even going to bother.”

“Quoting Linkin Park? In 2020?” Pyrrha got gingerly to her feet. “You’re right, Cinder. He’s just lazy as hell.”

“No kidding.” Cinder helped Pyrrha up. “Want to go get a beer while our ‘award winning author’ gets his act together?”

Hey, wait a minute. I _am_ award winning! I’ve got a trophy and everything! And I have a master’s degree in history!

“Sure, why not. No reason to die sober.” Pyrrha thumbed over her shoulder at the author. “Especially not with _this_ hack writing us.”

I bet Rooster Teeth doesn’t have to put up with this shit.

“Wanna bet?” Ruby said from the tower’s parapet. "Have you _never_ been to YouTube?"


	5. Friendship is Witchcraft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salem trains Cinder to use the powers of the Fall Maiden. But her testing method is...strange.

Cinder Fall sat upright in her chair. She dared no less. 

Around her, bathed in blood red and royal purple, was Salem’s throne room. Though there was no actual throne, she didn’t know how else to describe the place, and it seemed entirely appropriate for the most powerful single individual on Remnant. The high ceilings emphasized the room’s emptiness, and large gothic windows provided a view…but there was nothing to see but the blasted landscape of Salem’s realm. Cinder could do without that at the moment.

Her left arm itched, which was strange, because she didn’t have a left arm at the moment. The itch was matched with the pain from the burned half of her face. There were painkillers Cinder could take for the pain, but although Salem would have allowed it, Cinder refused: the pain was a reminder of who did this to her, and how that person was going to die screaming at her feet someday.

At the moment, there were only two people in the room—herself and a very nervous Emerald Sustrai, standing behind Cinder’s chair—but then the doors at the opposite end creaked and banged open. Salem did not so much walk across the floor as she glided, her slim, pale body hidden behind the cocoon-like dress. She drifted past Cinder and Emerald, and the room temperature noticeably dropped as she did so. Emerald swallowed nervously and fervently wished she was somewhere else. 

“My apologies,” Salem said as she took her seat at the head of the enormous table that filled the room. “My hair just takes _forever_ some days.” She settled herself into her seat. “Now then. Your training continues, right now.”

Cinder nodded, and hated the fact that her right hand—her remaining one—started to twitch nervously. She willed herself to stop it, but it continued. 

“Are you ready?” Salem asked, just the hint of steel in her voice, the slight promise of what would happen if Cinder was _not_ ready. Another nod. “Good.” Salem cleared her voice. “Why did most dinosaurs go into fits of laughter?”

Cinder said nothing. She glanced back at Emerald, who shrugged. Both of them started at the sudden noise of growling and clicking. Even Cinder, who feared very little, recoiled at the sight of the Seer Grimm as it drifted into the room.

“Do you give up?” Salem asked. Another nod from Cinder. “Because they were prehysterical.” There was a pregnant pause. Salem grinned at them, which was terrifying. “Because they were…prehistoric…” She nudged Cinder with a black-sleeved elbow. “Yes? Get it?”

Cinder managed a smile. Salem harrumphed. “I’ll have you know that had them in the _floor_ during the Age of Magic. All right. Again.” The ancient witch cracked her knuckles. “Remember, it can sense your trepidation. You must make it dread you. Now then…how long does a game of jousting last?” She raised her eyebrows at Cinder. “Hmm?”

Cinder thought hard, but nothing was coming. Not even with the threat of the Seer Grimm right there, her mind simply was not working. “Do you feel it?” Salem asked. “Don’t fight it, girl.”

Finally, the Fall Maiden simply had to give up. She motioned over Emerald, and rasped into the younger girl’s ear. Emerald, once more with a nervous swallow, faced Salem. “She says she doesn’t know. And to be perfectly honest, ma’am, neither do I.”

Salem groaned. “Youth is wasted on the young…until knight fall! It lasts until knight fall!” Once more, the horror-inducing grin. Once more, Cinder managed to plaster a smile on her face, but it was obviously faked.

Salem’s eyes pulsed red. Her smile faded to a rictus of hate. Slowly, she stood. “Cinder Fall. You will _laugh_ or I will instruct the Seer Grimm to reenact some of the worst scenes in hentai.” Cinder gulped and motioned Emerald over to her, but a pale fist smashed into the table. The windows rattled dangerously and the atmosphere seemed to thicken. “ _No!”_ Salem shouted. “ _You_ will laugh, not her!”

Cinder took a deep breath. Salem’s red eyes bored holes through her like a laser. She coughed and was able to force out a small chuckle. The Seer Grimm’s tentacles reached out. Emerald tried to make herself very small. She’d watched enough hentai to know that there was no such thing as an innocent bystander. 

“Laugh,” Salem hissed. The very air radiated fear.

Cinder was able to increase her chuckle to a guffaw. Then a laugh made its way through her tortured throat. Finally, she was laughing. It was a fake laugh to anyone with ears, but the Seer pulled back its tentacles, and Salem’s frown turned upside down. She stopped the laugh with a throat-cutting gesture. “Good. That’s enough for now. Dismissed, both of you.” Cinder and Emerald nearly fell over each other in fleeing from the room.

A hush fell over the room, broken only by the random clicks of the Seer. Salem sighed and cradled her chin in her hands. “Good help is so hard to find. I need to find someone who is adept at puns as I. Who will laugh no matter how bad my jokes are.” A thought occurred to her, and she raised a finger. “That’s it! Seer, to me!” The Grimm floated over to her, and she ran a hand over its reflective globe. “Show me…Yang Xiao Long.” The smile returned, evil and corrupt as sin itself. “Yesss…if Cinder Fall will not turn to the dark side of puns, perhaps _she_ will…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have way too much fun writing Salem. 
> 
> And I really need to write a pun-off between Yang and Salem.


	6. Pyrrha's Last Gambit 4: 4th Time's the Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha Nikos faces her end. As Cinder Fall draws back the bow, she asks...what do you mean you've read this before? Fine. Be that way. 
> 
> Pyrrha Nikos gets a frickin' railgun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter where I finally do something nice for Pyrrha, and turn Cinder into Daffy Duck.

_And here I am,_ Pyrrha Nikos thought to herself. _At the end._

Around her, the clock tower of Beacon Academy was in ruins. Pieces of the giant timepiece were scattered about the wrecked remains. The CCT transmitter was completely destroyed; whoever was left alive at Beacon was in full retreat from the White Fang and the Grimm. Her lower leg and foot screamed in pain, and Pyrrha gritted her teeth, trying not to cry out. She would die here, but she would not scream. The Invincible Girl of Mistral did not scream. The Invincible Girl of Mistral did not cry.

The devastation was complete, but it could not match the devastation in her heart.

Before her stood Cinder Fall. Cinder was bruised and battered herself, her dress torn, her hair in disarray—

“No!” Cinder stomped her foot. “This is at least the _fourth_ time you’ve pulled this stunt, author person! I don’t know about Pyrrha, but I am _sick_ of doing this scene!”

Pyrrha cradled her injured ankle and put up a hand. “Cinder, take it easy. I’m sure the author was just disappointed in the ending of season three, just like so many of the fandom—“

“For Shawcross’ sake!” Cinder yelled. “It’s been three years! Almost four! They need to get over it! I killed you because the series doesn’t work without me killing you, Pyrrha!”

Pyrrha shrugged. “Well, in theory, it _could_ still work if I survived…”

“No, it doesn’t! If you live, then that moron Jaune doesn’t grow as a person, that simpleton Ruby doesn’t mature and learns about her silver eyes, and I don’t get my comeuppance…” Cinder flexed the fingers on her left hand. “Well, all right, that last part I could do without.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Pyrrha said. “You don’t have to be evil—“

“Ethically challenged!”

“Ethically challenged,” Pyrrha amended. “But you don’t have to kill anyone else, Cinder. There is good in you. I can feel it.”

“Ohhh no,” Cinder snapped. “We did _Star Wars_ references in the last stupid skit.” She summoned her obsidian bow, nocked the arrow, and aimed at Pyrrha’s heart. Pyrrha drew herself up to her knees, despite the incredible pain in her heel. She would prefer to die on her feet, but so be it—

“ _Stop it!”_ Cinder screamed, and threw down the bow. “I swear to Oum, if you cut and paste one more damn thing—“

Hold on just a second there, Fall Maiden. This is _my_ story. This is a fanfic, which means I can do what I want. And if I want to cut and paste, you’ll just have to deal with it. The only way I’ll stop is if I get a cease and desist from Rooster Teeth.

“Fiddle-dee-dee!” Cinder stomped over to Pyrrha, sat down next to her, and folded her arms. “I’m not going to do anything until you either write the scene where I get to kill her—“ she poked at Pyrrha “—or I walk.” She grinned savagely at the author. “What are you going to do then, author person? Huh? Turn Ruby heel and have _her_ kill Pyrrha? Have the Grimm Wyvern come along and eat her like Roman Torchwick? Give me a katana to behead her so you can make another dumb _RWBY Chibi_ reference?”

“Why do all of these scenarios end with my horrible death?” Pyrrha asked.

Okay, okay. _Fine._ Cinder, stand up. 

Cinder stood and dusted off her legs. “I swear, I wonder whose idea it was to put me in a miniskirt…”

Not mine. 

“Fine, I’m standing. Now what?”

Okay, how about you get a railgun to kill Pyrrha with?

“Wait, _what?!”_ Pyrrha exclaimed.

“Oh, _hell_ yes,” Cinder cackled. She took a few steps back. “This good enough? I don’t want to get hurt by blowback.”

Yeah, that should do it. Now hold still…

Abruptly, Cinder stood there naked. Nude. Without a stitch. Au natural. Without apparel. Buck bald--

“They get the point!” Cinder screamed, trying to cover herself. “You _perv!_ How dare you do this to me?! This isn't your stupid 'One Night in Atlas' story where you had me get banged by some random prince!" Cinder thought for a moment. "Okay, fine, that was actually really nice for once. Most fanfics I'm getting it on with Ruby or Salem. Ew!"

Don't forget the chapter where you banged Neo.  
  
Cinder tapped her foot impatiently. "That sucked. You implied I don't even know my way around female anatomy!" She took her hands away. "There! Look! I'm totally a girl!"

Oh, I _know._

"Then make with some clothes! This is canon RWBY, you hack! It's a family show!"

“Family show?” exclaimed Pyrrha. “Oh, right! Where you shoot me in the heart with an arrow, then incinerate my body in front of one of my best friends? Family show my smooth butt!”

Well said, Pyrrha. Now then, Cinder, any more complaints about the writing, or do I have to add Ruby standing behind you with a Scroll on camera mode?

“Too late for that!” Ruby laughed, leaning against the ruins of Ozpin’s desk and holding up her Scroll.

Cinder was now doing a strange dance, trying to hide herself from millions…er, thousands…maybe hundreds…okay, dozens of fanboy (and fangirl; we don’t judge here) gazes. I mean, I don’t know how many people will read this. “Okay! Okay!” she pleaded. “You win, author! I’ll be good! I won’t complain!”

Very well.

Cinder’s dress reappeared, except it was the slinky black outfit with silk stockings and poncho from Season 6. She stopped complaining and looked it over. “Hmm. Not bad. I could get used to this.” She reached down and picked up the bow, replacing the arrow, and turned to fire on Pyrrha. “Now, where were…we…”

Pyrrha stood painfully, across the wrecked remains of the Beacon tower. In her hands she held a railgun, which hummed and glowed with a beautiful lethality. “This time it ends differently,” she growled.

“Oh, _shit_.” Cinder turned back to the author. “So what’s the deal with this?” She thumbed at Pyrrha.

Sorry, Cinder, but I like Pyrrha more. And I promise not to do anymore ‘Pyrrha’s Last Gambit’ skits after this.

Cinder nodded. “I see.” She dropped the bow on the ground, tore a strip of cloth from her poncho, and tied it around her head as a blindfold. She then placed a cigarette in her mouth and used her Fall Maiden powers to light it. “Anything to end these dumb skits. You may fire when ready, Pyrrha.”


	7. The Melancholy of Salem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emerald Sustrai is called by Salem to explain why Cinder's faction failed at Haven. Salem is not happy, not at all.
> 
> She's also extremely drunk.

Emerald Sustrai walked towards Salem’s throne room, terrified out of her wits. They had only returned from Haven a day before, and Salem’s rage had already nearly killed Hazel and blown out all the windows in her room. If she wanted Emerald, it could be for nothing good. Not that Salem ever did anything good, but this would be bad even by her standards. Emerald suspected that, since the witch could not punish Cinder for losing the Relic of Knowledge, then she would punish the next best thing. The growling, clicking Seer Grimm at the door didn’t help matters.

With more courage than she thought she had, Emerald opened the door. The room was even colder than before, though at least someone had cleaned up the broken glass. A momentary mental image of a Beowolf with a broom and pan cheered Emerald for a moment. But only for a moment.

“Get in here.” Salem’s voice was one degree above absolute zero. “And close the door behind you.”

Emerald could not resist a nervous swallow. She closed the door and stood there, trembling.

“Come over to me. Now.”

Fear coalesced into an icy ball in Emerald’s stomach. She willed herself not to cry, because she was very sure that Salem was about to kill her, or at least horribly mutilate her. She nearly stumbled once or twice, but she was finally over to Salem’s side. She pulled out the seat that Cinder used to sit in, but Salem stopped her with a look. 

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Salem snapped. Emerald shook her head, too scared even to speak. “You _failed_ at Haven, Emerald Sustrai. And for that…” The ancient witch let the words hang in the air for a moment. “And for that, you shall be punished…”

Emerald whimpered. She couldn’t help herself. She was going to die.

“…by sharing this drink with me!” Salem’s expression of pure rage was suddenly replaced by a wide smile, and the immortal woman started laughing. “Oh my gods! The _look_ on your face, Emerald! Oh, I wish I had one of those Scroll things you kids are always going off about so I could’ve gotten a picture!” She shoved a tall bottle towards Emerald and shooed her to a seat. Salem found a glass, stared at it, used a corner of her cloak to wipe it out, then used magic to move it over to Emerald. The glass wobbled before it came to a halt. The bottle then levitated and poured a shot. “Go ahead, drink up! I am!”

As Emerald took the glass, Salem grabbed the bottle and downed it in a single gulp. “Ahhh! That’s the good stuff right there.” She peered at the bottle for a moment before she tossed it through one of the smashed windows, to shatter far below after knocking an Ursa unconscious. Salem got to her feet, looked around unsteadily—now that she was more in shock than fear, Emerald could tell that the witch’s red eyes were glazed over—and walked to the small table behind her chair. She stumbled on the edge of her robe, cursed, then found a full bottle. She weaved back to the big table. “You drinking?” Salem growled. Emerald nodded quickly and took a sip. The liquor smelled like formaldehyde and tasted like furniture polish. Granted, Emerald had never drank furniture polish (though she was pretty sure Tyrian had), but it probably tasted like this.

“No, no!” Salem protested, and tipped up the shot glass with magic. Emerald nearly choked, but she got it down. “It’s not sippin’ whiskey, you!” Salem pulled the cork out of the new bottle with her teeth, spit it out another window and hit a Nevermore, and downed more of the foul liquor. She splashed more of it into Emerald’s glass. “C’mon, Diamond—“

“Emerald.”

“Emerald. Sorry. Knew it was some kind of mineral. Don’t make me drink alone!” 

Emerald took another drink. Salem nodded appreciatively. Emerald held the glass, and dared to face the ancient witch directly. “Salem, Mistress, please don’t punish me—“

“Oooh.” Salem wiggled her eyebrows and put on a sultry face. “Didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, Emerald.”

“—but are you drunk?”

Salem downed more of the bottle. “Am I drunk?” Suddenly her mood shifted. “Of course I’m frigging drunk, Amethyst!” She slammed the bottle on the table. To Emerald’s horror, dark, flashing clouds began to roll in from the west, and she could hear the howls and growls of various Grimm from below. “I have to deal with…with…this…” Salem lost her train of thought, but quickly got it back after another drink. “This _bullshit!_ ” She nodded emphatically. “Yeah, bullshit! I mean, what the hell do you know about it? Drink some more or I’ll rip out your eyeballs and play pingpong with them.” Emerald hurriedly drank and shaking, held out her glass for more. More was funneled into it. 

Salem stood, took another drink, finished the bottle and threw it out the window to down a wandering Beowolf, then found yet another bottle. It was filled with some red liquid. Salem popped the cork off that one, sniffed at it, and drank more. “Makin’ sure it’s not blood…not makin’ _that_ mistake again…” She whirled on Emerald. “Yeah, I’m fuckin’ drunk! You idiots failed at Haven; Cinder got her ass beat by Raven Branwen, who’s the fuckin' Spring fuckin’ Maiden, if you can believe it; didn’t get the damn Relic…” She swigged another shot. “Stupid brother gods cursed me with immortality so I can’t fuckin’ die, Amazon won’t deliver out here anymore after Watts accidentally killed their last delivery guy, and Ozpin’s already reincarnated!” Another drink, and a finger leveled at Emerald. “Yeah, that’s right, bitch! Your Cinder stupid even that screwed up!” She stalked over to Emerald, who was doing everything not to wet her pants in fear. She slammed the bottle down again. “You know what’s it like bein’ immortal where you can’t die and stuff?”

“N-no,” Emerald stammered.

“Nah, of course not. You're just a stupid kid.” Salem slipped and fell to the floor. Her hand went upwards and grabbed the bottle. “Stupid robe!” She looked up at Emerald with burning, glowing red eyes, and the thief nearly had heart failure. “You know what the worst fuckin’ part is?”

“No, Mistress Salem!” Emerald replied quickly.

Salem’s eyes suddenly fluttered, then scrunched shut. Tears ran from her eyes and poured over her cheeks. She sniffled pitifully, though the picture of melancholy was lost a moment later when she took another drink and belched. “I ain’t been laid in centuries,” Salem sniffed. She nodded. “I know, right? I got a smokin’ hot bod, but nobody wants me. Some dude comes around and he’s all ‘Oh wow, you’re a hawt goth chick’ and I’m like ‘Give it to me, baby’ and he says ‘Oh hellz no, you’re undead and got pasty skin and black veins and shit’ and I have to rip off his head and feed it to an Ursa and it’s just not fair, Quartz!” 

Salem’s head fell on Emerald’s leg, but she was not passed out. “Ahhh, dammit!” Salem screamed, enough that the bricks in the castle shook and Emerald worried that her eardrums would burst. “Why did you have to leave meeeee, Ozmaaaaa…”

The sobbing was so bad that a tiny spark of humanity in Emerald’s heart compelled her to reach out and gently stroke Salem’s hair. A pale hand fell on hers and held it tight. After a few more moments of soaking Emerald’s leg with tears, Salem shakily got to her feet, leaning against the table. She sniffed again. “I’m sorry, Feldspar. I don’t mean to go on like this. Just so damn lonely.”

Emerald noticed that they were still holding hands. “No, Mistress, it’s all right.”

Salem collapsed into a chair and sighed. “All the fun’s gone out of it, ya know? Used to be I could wipe out a quarter of humanity and kill Ozma a few times and I’d be good for a century or two. Now I have you guys burn down Beacon and it’s just not there, yeah?” She searched for the red bottle, unfortunately found it, and sank half of it with one swig. Salem smacked her lips. “But you wanna know something, Sapphire?”

Emerald shook her head. “What, Mistress?”

The heavens rumbled again. “Knock off the mistress shit, Lignite. Call me Salem.” Then the skies parted again as Salem giggled. “That Ozma’s a big dork, but he could make my toes curl, ya know? By the _gods,_ he could make me scream!” Suddenly she raised her head to the heavens “Woooo!” Salem yelled, like a female undead Ric Flair. She shoved the bottle towards Emerald. “You drink up there, Palladium, and I’ll tell you how Ozma got me with four kids!” She collapsed in laughter, pale toes pointed skyward.

Emerald poured the glass full. It was going to be a very long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between this and "The Devil Went Down to Atlas" over in Love Hurts, I'm really growing to love writing Salem who, under her immortal queen of evil exterior, is a harried, frustrated corporate businesswoman who is in desperate need of good subordinates and a decent boyfriend. 
> 
> Maybe the solution to beating Salem is to just give the poor thing a hug.


	8. Flight of the Bumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang is studying (yeah, right) at the Beacon library when she gets a call from Blake. 
> 
> Blake's horny. Really horny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I didn't accidentally post a chapter of "Love Hurts" to "Tales of Remnant." I haven't done that. Yet.

It was a crisp winter evening at Beacon Academy, when the nights grow long on Remnant, and the broken moon shines on the snow. It was also when forbidden love blossoms in the shadows. 

Yang Xiao Long was in Beacon’s voluminous library, but she wasn’t studying per se. In fact, she was in one of the secluded study nooks in the far areas of the library. Now she was engrossed in a book, but it was not one commonly read by the students at Beacon—it was one of Blake’s books, _Ninjas of Love IV: This is Filth and You Know It._ To hide the fact that she was reading smut from the odd passing student or instructor, she’d hidden it inside a math book. 

Yang, drymouthed, was at the part where the wandering samurai transforms from a bird and seduces the daimyo's eldest daughter when her Scroll buzzed for her attention. She gave it a dirty look, willed it to stop, but it annoyingly buzzed again. Briefly, her eyes flared red, but Yang decided that embedding her Scroll into the wall would do no one any good. She picked it up and turned it over; to her surprise, it was Blake.

Yang answered the call. “Hey, Blake.”

“Yang.” Blake sounded terrified. “You have to help me!”

Yang instantly shut her book. Despite her Semblance being based on a literally explosive temper, Yang actually had a gentle heart in her own way, and would do anything for her friends. She began to get up from the nook. “Where are you?”

“In our room. Yang, I’m scared!”

Yang tucked the book into her belt and began to run through the library, which was almost deserted this time of night, and ignored the staffer that both shushed her and yelled at her to slow down at the same time. She didn’t care if she got in trouble: Blake Belladonna didn’t _get_ scared, and if she did, something was terribly wrong. “I’m on my way, Blake. What’s wrong? Is someone in the room with you?”

“No, I’m alone—thank the gods. You just have to get here! I don’t know what to do!”

Yang left the library at a full run, nearly running down Jaune because it’s not a RWBY story if poor Jaune isn’t getting hurt. “Okay, Blake. You’ve got to calm down.” The Faunus girl sounded like she was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. “Tell me what’s happening.”

“I don’t know how to describe it,” Blake said. She hesitated for a moment while Yang ran through the courtyard. “I’m…horny. Just so horny.”

Yang skidded to a stop, eyes wide. “You're… _what?”_

“I don’t know how else to describe it, Yang!”

Yang caught her breath and took the Scroll away from her face for a moment. _Okay, Yang, think,_ she thought. _Blake wouldn’t call you if she was…or maybe she would? I mean, she said she had a boyfriend once, but I mean, I’ve had_ lots _of boyfriends, but I still find Blake kinda cute from the tips of her cute little kitty ears to her cute little toes, and—_ She shook her head. _Okay, stop that._

A thought flashed in her head. _Wait, wait! Blake’s a Faunus! Faunus are like animals a bit, right? So maybe…_ “Holy shit,” Yang whispered to herself. 

“Yang, are you still there?” Blake’s voice shrilled.

“Uh, yeah! Yeah! Almost to the dorm. I’ll be there in two minutes, okay?”

“Okay…” Blake hung up. Yang stuffed her Scroll back in her pocket and dashed through the front door of the dorm, nearly knocking over Pyrrha, because if there’s a punching bag in RWBY not named Jaune, it’s named Pyrrha.

_Blake’s in heat!_ Yang thought in alarm. _Oh, man, poor thing. And of course there’s no boy here to help her—Ren can’t because Nora would murder him_ and _Blake, and Jaune…yeah, right, that guy could screw up a free lunch. None of the professors can help, of course, and Blake’s not going to trust anyone outside of the team. Ruby’s too young, really, and Weiss is too frigid—heh, that’s a pretty good pun; I’ll have to write that one down—so that leaves me._

By the time she reached Team RWBY’s dorm room, Yang was ready to take one for the team and in the name of friendship. If dealing with Blake’s heat meant crossing into that place on the internet that Taiyang thought his daughters never went, then so be it. Besides, the teenage years were supposed to be a time for experimentation, right? And it’s not like she had never thought about it, Yang admitted to herself.

Yang threw open the door, kicked off her boots, and was going for her jacket before the door even closed. “Okay, Blake, I’ll warn you,” she said, a little nervously, “I’ve never done this sort of thing before with a girl, so I may not be my usual awesome…self…” Yang’s voice trailed off as she saw Blake. 

Blake was sitting on her bed. She was fully clothed, and, other than a tear-streaked face, she looked normal. Then Yang saw what lay between her ears.

It was a pair of antlers. They were not huge antlers, but they were definitely antlers.

“Er, Blake?”

Blake, sunk in utter depression, reached up and touched her antlers. “Yang, I don’t know why it happened. I woke up from a nap, and those had appeared! Horns!”

“So when you said you were horny—“

“It wasn’t the best choice of words,” Blake admitted, “but I didn’t know what else to say!” Yang didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed. Blake picked up a mirror that lay on her bookshelf, looked at herself again, and sniffled. “I look like an antelope…”

“Like a…” Yang couldn’t resist. It was like some faraway evil power totally not named for the capital of Oregon suddenly possessed her. “…cataloupe?” Then she burst out laughing. 

Blake massaged her eyes. “I knew I should’ve called Velvet.”

Yang got herself quickly under control. _Damn,_ she thought, _that was bad, even for me._ “Sorry, Blake. Don’t know what came over me.” She sat down next to Blake and put her arm around her. “Assuming this isn’t just a Faunus thing—“

“It’s not.”

“—then what were you doing before you took a nap?”

Blake gave it some thought. “Nothing here. I just had dinner…but that can’t be it. Unless…”

“Unless?”

“That new girl with the green hair? Emerald? She bought me a soda. I thought it smelled funny, like chemistry class, but it tasted good.” Blake looked confused. “I mean, that can’t be it, can it?”

Two dorms away, looking through binoculars, Emerald grinned savagely. She held out a hand, and Mercury disgustedly slapped twenty lien into it. “Fine,” he growled, “you’re the Prank Queen.”


	9. Look at Those Assets!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha is trying to get Jaune to notice her, so an exasperated Nora tells her to show Jaune her assets.
> 
> And Pyrrha does.

It was a quiet spring day at Beacon Academy, when a young boy’s fancy turns to love. Weiss opened the door to Team RWBY’s dorm room, only to be confronted with Jaune Arc standing there, guitar at the ready. He bowed elaborately to her. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

“It’s afternoon.”

“It’s always morning when I see you.” His fingers rose to rest lightly on the strings.

Weiss narrowed her eyes in an extreme close-up. “Listen to me, Jaune. If you begin serenading me, I will jam that guitar so far up your ass that you will play ‘Smoke On the Water’ every time you sneeze.”

“Ow.”

She shoved him aside. “Now if you will excuse me, I need to go practice my summoning.” Weiss stalked down the hall, mumbling to herself. Jaune, deflated and defeated, dragged his guitar across the hall to Team JNPR’s room. 

Nora looked up from her comic book. “Shot down again, Casanova?”

“Shut up.” He threw the guitar under his bed and threw himself on top of it. “I don’t get it, Nora! What will it take to get her to notice me?”

Nora rolled her eyes. She was thoroughly sick of this. Jaune had not gotten it through his rock skull that he had a gorgeous redhead bombshell panting for him, with a body that would send a stone idol howling off its perch, and instead pursued an admittedly very attractive (and very rich) girl who was not at all interested in him. “Why don’t you try looking around, Jaune?” She threw the comic book at him in an uncharacteristic show of frustration and left the room.

As she left, Nora nearly collided with the aforementioned redhead bombshells, who was up against the hallway wall, eavesdropping. “Pyr—“ Pyrrha’s hand shot forward to cover Nora’s mouth. Shushing the other girl into silence, Pyrrha motioned for Nora to follow her.

They ended up on the balcony, where the Not So Invincible Girl of Mistral began to pace. “How did you get Ren to notice you?” she asked Nora without warning.

Truth to tell, Nora wasn’t sure if Ren _had_ noticed her, but Nora was so sick of her friends circling around each other, dense as depleted uranium. Jaune was being stupid, but Pyrrha wasn’t much better, unable to confess her true feelings. Nora decided to acclerate the process. “I showed him my assets.”

Pyrrha looked at her popeyed. “You…”

“Yep. One look at my assets, and Lie Ren was mine forever.” That was not true, actually. The fact was Ren and Nora were close friends, and had been since childhood. True, Nora wanted Ren to see her as more than that now, but that was a story for another season. If Pyrrha letting Jaune have it with the full monty (no pun intended, Yang) was what it took to move things along, and get the two of them to quit pining away like some bad Shakespearean analogy, then it would be worth it. And it might be fun. 

Pyrrha chewed her bottom lip in thought. “I guess it’s worth a try.”

Nora slapped her friend on the back. “He’s in there right now, Pyrrha. I’m going to go over to the cafeteria for a snack, and I’ll be back in…say…thirty minutes?” She figured that it would take about that time for Pyrrha to summon up enough courage to go through with it. “If you guys end up…you know…just close the door. I’ll go find Ren and come back later.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Pyrrha blushed and nodded. 

Nora left her friend on the balcony and half-skipped to the cafeteria. After a double-scoop of ice cream, she meant to linger in the courtyard for awhile, but her curiosity got the better of her. Though Nora was a mistress of the scream-and-leap offensive, with all the subtlety of a charging rhinoceros, she actually could be quite stealthy when the mood was on her; one didn’t grow up in the wilds without learning such things. She sneaked into the dorm and silently made her way to Team JNPR’s dorm room.

The dorm room door was closed, and Nora threw no one in particular a thumbs-up. “Mission accomplished,” she whispered to herself, and was about to leave when she saw the door was ajar. With all the love she had for her friends, Nora went to ease it closed when she heard muffled voices.

“So these are my assets,” Pyrrha was saying. Nora wanted to groan. _Well,_ she thought, _that’s being literal, but you go, girl._

“Wow!” Jaune said. “Those are impressive!”

“I thought you’d like them, Jaune.”

Nora barely suppressed a cheer. She leaned closer to the door. _I’ll just make sure they’re getting along_ _and then I’ll leave._

“Can I look at them?” Jaune was asking.

“Of course! That’s why I got them out,” Pyrrha replied. 

Jaune gave a low whistle. “That’s more than I’ve ever seen, that’s for sure.”

_Wait. When has Jaune ever seen…_ Nora did not realize that she was leaning closer and closer to the door, driven by her curiosity and the plot (such as it is). She got too close and the door drifted open with a squeak. 

Both Pyrrha and Jaune gasped, and turned around in shock. Nora saw that they were both on Pyrrha’s bed, next to each other, and…fully clothed? “What…what’s going on?” Nora demanded.

Pyrrha blinked in cute confusion. “I’m showing Jaune my assets, like you told me.” She held up her bank statement and stock folder. Nora did not exactly have a head for numbers, but she could tell that Pyrrha, with all her endorsements and public appearances, was filthy stinking rich. Not heir to the Schnee fortune rich, but still very impressive indeed.

Nora sighed. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“Oh, I know,” Pyrrha told her. “But I figured Jaune would find these assets _very_ sexy.”

Jaune nodded vigorously. “I sure do!” He shooed Nora away. “Now if you don’t mind, we’re going to go over some 401(k) options…and we’d kinda like to be alone.”

Nora left, wondering what the hell was going on now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Money can't buy love...but it helps.


End file.
